


After the War is Over...

by ButterflyGhost



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Broken Family, F/M, Grief, Infidelity, M/M, PTSD, Post War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3062186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war is over, hostilities don't necessarily stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the War is Over...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nakeisha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakeisha/gifts).
  * Inspired by [After the War](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2689784) by [ButterflyGhost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyGhost/pseuds/ButterflyGhost). 



> I know this ends in a dark place, but I am currently working on chapter two, which I promise leads them all to a much happier place. Sorry this turned out so much angstier than I promised, and sorry that I didn't have it finished in time for Christmas! To realistically get to a happy ending and make it complex enough to be believable turned out to be a lot harder than I thought.
> 
> Also, this is a less 'gen' version than the one I wrote for my son. (Slightly different title.)

  
Hard as it had been while BJ was away, Peg hadn’t expected it to be harder when he came home.

 

The first few days - the first few weeks even - were wonderful. BJ arrived at the airport, smart in his army uniform, and Peg’s heart flipped over. He looked older, and was wearing a mustache. She stood staring, like a starstruck schoolgirl meeting a movie star. Erin ran to BJ’s arms shouting ‘Daddy!’ as though she’d recognised him, as though she hadn’t been a month old when she’d last seen him. And she’d got the right soldier this time. BJ swooped his daughter up in his arms, and kissed her all over her face crying into her hair. Peg took a breath, put her hand to her chest - her heart was racing so hard - and stepped up to him, smiled up into his eyes, and blinked. Tears were running down her face; she was shaking. 

 

“Peg,” he said, and wrapped her in his free arm, still holding Erin over his shoulder. “Peg,” he repeated, and squeezed her tight. “Oh, sweetheart, Peg, my Peg,” he murmured, kissing her and kissing her, and kissing her. His lips were salty and wet. She kissed back and stroked the tears off his cheeks. 

 

Everyone at the airport seemed to be smiling, and some of the other disembarking passengers applauded. The hero had come home.

 

And he was Peg’s hero - he always would be. He had been, even before he went to war. Back when they first met, when he was the handsome, kind sweet romantic; the tall guy with tender hands, who had loved her from the first second they met. The guy she had been in love with from the moment she laid eyes on him.

 

They danced at his welcome home party, and he was just - beautiful. That was the word, though she’d never say it to a man. More than handsome. He was beautiful in his shined shoes. Elegant in the way he moved. He made her beautiful, he made her graceful as they glided across the floor, he made her heart bigger as he gazed at her with such happiness, so much hunger in his eyes.

 

Something else in his eyes, something she’d never seen before. Pain, perhaps. But still, in there, her husband. The only man she had ever lain with, the only man she ever would.

 

And they did a lot of that - lying together. Seemed like they would never stop making love after he came home. Seemed like there was never enough time, like they’d never grow tired of each other, like she’d die, like he’d die if they didn’t just… if they didn’t just… it made her blush. Any moment they got - bedroom, bathroom, walking through the woods while her parents sat for Erin. Anywhere. They were passionate in a way that they hadn’t even been on their honeymoon. It should have been perfect. At first it nearly was.

~*~

 

It took a while for her to notice, but eventually she did. Something had changed in him.

 

 

Things settled, eventually. The welcome home party was over, scattered family members stopped descending on them, the neighbours stopped being so excited to see BJ back home, and he started back at work. A family practice, barely ten minutes walk from the house - again, perfect. After he’d finished for the day he would come home, kiss Peg, help her bathe Erin. Brush her teeth - he was the only one Erin would let near her when new milk teeth were coming through - and would read his little girl a bedtime story, tuck her in at night. He was the perfect father. He was nearly the perfect husband.

 

 

But… Oh, why did there have to be a ‘but’? There were nightmares. Once or twice a week he’d wake up shouting, fighting his blankets, cursing. Peg had never heard him curse before, and he never did it when he was awake.

 

 

Worse than the cursing were those times when he would wake her up by crying in the night.

 

 

At first she thought - well, she didn’t know what to think. He’d get over it, she assured herself. It was to be expected, after all. He’d been through a traumatic experience, but he was strong. He’d be fine. She knew he would.

 

 

But then it carried on for months, nearly a year, with no sign of letting up. In the mornings, he’d not remember that he’d dreamed, and she didn’t like to say. Occasionally while he was lashing out at the dark his hand would strike her. She wondered if the neighbours though he beat her. Of course he didn’t, but what was someone supposed to think if she had a black eye? Of course, a lot of men beat their wives, so nobody said a word. BJ would look confused the next day if he had bruised her face and she couldn’t hide it. He’d ask her what had happened; she’d tell him some story. He’d nod and accept it - why shouldn’t he? He knew Peg would never lie to him.

 

 

She never meant to.

 

 

And really, it wasn’t so bad. She could live with his nightmares, because she would hold him in the dark afterward, and they would both sleep tight. He had come home safe to her, and in gratitude for that she could live with the fact that she had one lie. One secret that she kept from him - his nightmares. That sometimes he scared her. She could live with all that. She could live with anything so long as he was there.

 

 

But then… then there was the drinking.

 

 

She didn’t actually notice it at first. Thought it was normal socialising, or winding down at the end of a long day. Then she thought it was a phase. She hoped it was.

 

 

But then, Erin was three. Erin was three, and after the birthday party, after the kids had all gone home, B.J was slurring. He slurred all through the bedtime story, and Erin giggled because she thought it was funny.

 

 

Peg felt like her heart had just been cut out.

 

 

It wasn’t a phase, and it wasn’t normal drinking. She suddenly realised that he’d been drinking every day since he got home. He was just better at hiding it than most.

 

 

That night they had their first row in years. It wasn’t that they’d never argued before, it was just that she’d been so grateful he was home, and then so cautious not to hurt him more than the war had already done. She’d had no idea how much resentment had built up over the months since he’d returned. She’d had no idea she was so angry.

 

 

At the end of the row BJ was crying on the floor in the living room, hugging his legs and hiding his face behind his knees. Peg went upstairs, and was not crying in their bed. She wasn’t. She was angry not… not sad.

 

 

Erin slept through it, thank God.

 

 

That night B.J slept on the couch.

 

 

Next day he came up, and vowed never to drink again. They made up - the way husbands and wives make up - and she watched him carefully, not sure at first he meant it. She watched him, and over the next few days he got sick. He got the shakes, he got the sweats. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Then he was fine. Perhaps he’d got the ‘flu, she told herself. Whatever it was - he promised her never to drink again. Afterhe believed him.

 

 

He kept his promise for nearly a year.

 

~*~

 

BJ never expected to hear from Hawk-Eye again.  
  
  
It was a Friday, he’d booked a vacation day on Monday, and a long summer weekend stretched ahead of them. He was driving Peg and Erin out into the country to stay in a cabin by the lake. Peg was in the kitchen packing snacks for the journey, Erin was tugging his trouser leg saying “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, can we get a hamster?” and the phone rang.  
  
  
“Hey, Beej.”  
  
  
Two words, and BJ’s heart stuttered for a moment; his mouth went dry. The silence stretched out, hissing and crackling over however many miles and months it had been since he last saw Hawk-Eye. Oh God. Erin and Peggy were very far away.   
  
  
“B.J?” A question in the voice. BJ coughed and managed to speak.  
  
  
“God, Hawk-eye, is that you?”  
  
  
“Last time I checked.” Hawk-Eye chuckled, though he sounded like he was forcing it - like he was nervous somehow. “Thought at first I’d got the wrong number.”  
  
  
“No, Hawk, it’s me. Wow -” BJ was grinning, even though he wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. Glad, mainly. “Thought you’d forgotten all about me,” he blurted out like a fool, then winced. “Hey,” he said, before Hawk-Eye could pick up on his stupidity. “How you doing? How’s your Dad?”  
  
  
“Uh…” Hawk’s voice went quiet. “He, uh… He died.”  
  
  
BJ sat down, and swiped his face with his hand.  
  
  
“Oh, God,” he said, softly. “Hawk, I’m so sorry. When?”  
  
  
“Ten days ago. We just…” Hawk-Eye’s voice suddenly choked. “We just had the funeral.”  
  
  
BJ reached out, and pulled Erin toward him for a hug. He needed to hug somebody, and Hawk-Eye wasn’t here. “Daddy,” Erin pleaded “can we get a hamster?”  
  
  
“Honey,” he kissed her head. “I’m on the phone.”  
  
  
Hawk-Eye laughed again. B.J suddenly realised he was not quite sober. “I take it that’s Erin?”  
  
  
“Yeah.” BJ tousled his daughter’s hair, his face creased up with worry about his friend. “She’s getting big now,” he added, not quite sure how to approach the subject of Hawk-Eye’s father. Was it the cancer back again? He shouldn’t ask.  
  
  
“God, she must be… what… three?”  
  
  
“Nearly four.” BJ swallowed. “You’d like her,” he said. “I mean, you were always good with children.”  
  
  
Hawk-Eye snorted, sounding a little bitter. “Other people’s children,” he said. “I’ll never have one of my own.”  
  
  
“Well,” BJ said, “you know Erin’s somebody else’s child. You want to come over, meet Peg and Erin?”  
  
  
There was a pause on the phone. “Yeah, Beej,” Hawk-Eye said. His voice choked. “I’d like that very much.”

 

~*~

 

 

Hawk-Eye turned up at Beej’s place a week later. Felt like he’d been driving forever - Crab Apple Cove was a million miles away from Mill Valley. He had no idea what he was doing here.

 

 

Don’t think.

 

 

He checked the back seat of his car to make sure Erin’s special present was safe, took it by the handle, carefully. Brought out the bottle of wine for Peg. Realised that he had nothing for BJ, other than gifts for his family.

 

 

BJ wouldn’t mind. Family. That was the most important thing, right? Always had been the most important thing for BJ, and he’d always had more sense than Hawk-Eye. Beej had made the right choices in life. That’s why he wasn’t alone.

 

 

Hawk-Eye rolled his eyes and smirked at himself for being childish. He’d always been a dramatist. Who was he to feel sorry for himself anyway? He’d come back alive, after all, and he’d got to spend time with his Dad. Which… He so nearly hadn’t. His Dad hadn’t told him how sick he really was. He could have died when Hawk-Eye was in Korea.

 

 

Everybody dies. If Hawk-Eye had learned anything from the war, he’d learned that. But - he shook himself - also, he’d learned that he had friends. Real friends. Even if he had neglected them. Even if…

 

Even if BJ was more than a friend. Or had been. Even if it could never be like that again. BJ was still there. He had been when it most mattered, and he was here now.

 

 

Why were his palms sweating then, if he was so sure BJ still cared?

 

 

“Just knock on the door already.” He spoke aloud and raised his hand. Before his knuckles had even rapped against the wood though, the door swung open.

 

 

“Hawk-Eye!” BJ, just as tall and vivid as ever, stood framed in the doorway, grinning fit to split his face. No mustache, gained a bit of weight back. Looked younger than he had done, no shadows under his eyes. Not so tired, not so haunted.

 

 

He was looking great. Hawk-Eye opened his mouth to speak, but for once he was lost for words.

 

 

 

“Oh my God, I missed you,” BJ said, and then all of a sudden they were hugging, and laughing and slapping each other’s shoulders. A manly hug. Of course. Hawk-Eye squeezed his eyes shut, and rested his head on BJ’s shoulder for a moment, just a moment too long, feeling BJ’s heart thump. Underneath the scent of fresh laundry and soap, BJ smelled the same.

 

 

“Missed you too,” Hawk-Eye said, muffled up against Beej’s shirt.

 

 

BJ cleared his throat and stepped back. Hawk-Eye stepped back too. He was being too sentimental, he knew it. Didn’t want to scare Beej off before they had even properly said ‘hello.’ He tilted his head, trying to think of something to say. Behind Beej stood a pretty little girl in a flowery frock, somewhere between toddler and little tike. She had dark blond hair, and blue eyes, and dimples on her knees. Hawk-Eye blinked, realising who she was, and grinned. “Hey,” he said, and stuck out his hand. “Erin? I’m your Daddy’s friend.” Erin frowned, stuck her thumb in her mouth, and hid behind her Daddy’s knees.

 

 

“This is Hawk-Eye,” BJ said, still smiling. “Don’t be shy.” He moved to take Hawk-Eyes’ luggage then paused. His eyebrows went up when he saw Hawk-Eyes’ other passenger.

 

 

“Is that a… is that a hutch?” BJ looked puzzled.

 

 

“Hamster!” Erin squealed, and ran out from where she had been hiding behind BJ’s legs. “Mommy, Mommy! Daddy’s friend bought me a hamster!!!”

 

 

Hawk-Eye grinned. “Well, actually, one of your Daddy’s other friends helped me with that.” He caught BJ’s eye. “Radar,” he said, “came to see me when Dad was sick, at the… at the end.” Hawk-Eye was never going to forget Radar’s kindness, how he’d made Dad laugh, even on his very last day. He wiped his eyes with his knuckles, and tried to smile. “Radar, he was good. He, uh… he stayed for the… You know. Funeral.”

 

 

“Awh, Hawk.” BJ put a hand on Hawk-Eye’s shoulder, and squeezed “I wish I’d known. You could have talked to me.”

 

 

No. No, he couldn’t have. Not while his Dad was dying. It would have have been one hurt too many at the time. Hawk-Eye shrugged off BJ’s comment, though he knew it was sincere. It was like Beej was bleeding from his eyes, the way he looked at him with such… such profound sympathy. He didn’t want… didn’t want pity, or whatever this was. It was too much. “Anyway,” Hawk-Eye continued, his voice gone gruff. “You know how Radar is with animals. Told me all about how to look after her and everything.”

 

 

“She’s a she?” Erin piped up, and knelt on the ground making kissy faces at the hutch. BJ ran his fingers through his hair, still focused intently on Hawk-Eye.

 

 

“You saw Radar? God, I feel so stupid, I keep forgetting to write back to him. How is he?”

 

 

“He’s well,” Hawk-Eye said. “Same old. You’ll never believe it - he’s thinking of going to Police Academy and being a cop.”

 

 

“A what?” BJ’s voice rose incredulously. “Don’t they have height requirements?”

 

 

“A good service record goes a long way,” Hawk-Eye said.

 

 

“He’s much too sweet to be a cop,” Beej said, shaking his head. “He’ll be chewed alive.”

 

 

“That’s what I thought.” Hawk-Eye lifted a shoulder. “But, you know, he survived Korea. He’s not as innocent or naive as we thought.”

 

 

“Wow. Radar as a policeman.” BJ laughed. “He might be the best police man ever. He always had a way of bringing out the best in people. Maybe he won’t arrest the criminals, he’ll just convert them all to kindness.”

 

 

“Yeah.” Hawk-Eye smiled at the thought. “That would be nice.”

 

 

“He still going out with that nurse he met on the way home?”

 

 

“Yeah. They’re engaged.”

 

 

“That’s… that’s wonderful.” If BJ had been grinning any harder his face might have split. Hawk-Eye was filled with a poignant urge to kiss him, but he couldn’t do that on the street. And then… Then he realised he’d missed somebody.

 

 

Damn. How could he forget her? Standing a little behind BJ, still in the house - BJ’s wife.

 

 

“Peg?” Hawk-Eye stepped forward to shake her hand, or hug her, or - or whatever you did when you met the wife of the man you’d been sleeping with. He paused for a moment, uncertain. Peg Hunnicutt did not look like a happy woman.

 

 

Then the look of frosty calm vanished, and she was just like the photo BJ carried around in his wallet - smiling, stepping forward, and giving him a hug.

 

 

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said.

 

 

“All of it good?”

 

 

She froze for a moment, then moved to stand by Beej, put an arm around him. Like… like she was trying to say ‘I got dibs’ or something. Hawk-Eye felt a stab of panic. What if she knew?

 

 

“Most of it was good.” Peggy laughed lightly. If Hawk-Eye hadn’t seen the look on her face earlier he could have almost thought she was being welcoming, playful.

 

 

But he had seen the look.

 

 

She gestured with one hand, still smiling. “Come on in.”

~*~

 

 

By the time BJ got to bed, Peg had got passed the fuming angry stage, and was approaching the tearful stage.

 

 

“You promised,” she said, as BJ tucked himself in beside her.

 

 

“Awh, come on, Peg. It was just a glass of wine.”

 

 

“It was two. And you promised.”

 

 

“I couldn’t say no. He’d brought it as a present.

 

 

“You could have said you don’t drink. That’s what you say to everyone else.” He’d even said it to her family, last time they all got together. Because it used to be true.

 

 

“Okay, two glasses of wine, with dinner.” BJ sounded defensive, but he hadn’t apologised. “It’s not like I got drunk.”

 

 

But you promised, Peg thought in her head. She kept her mouth shut. There would be no point repeating herself. And besides, maybe she was overreacting.

 

 

She was overreacting because she didn’t like Hawk-Eye, she thought. Because she couldn’t stand her husband’s best friend.

 

 

BJ stroked her cheek. “It was a special occasion,” he said.

 

 

“You didn’t even have a drink at Christmas,” she pointed out.

 

 

“Yeah, but this is different. This is Hawk.”

 

 

What’s different about him? she wanted to ask. I saw the way he looked at you. I look at you like that.

 

 

“Sweetheart?”

 

 

Peg suppressed the urge to roll onto her side, put her back to him. Give him the cold shoulder, like he deserved. No… he didn’t deserve that. But she was still angry, even if she did want to cry.

 

 

Despite her best effort not to, she turned her head on the pillow, and stared into the darkness, away from him.

 

 

“Peg, Honey?”

 

 

“What?”

 

 

BJ’s was spooning up beside her, his hand stroking her cheek. She could feel his knuckles gliding across her chin, his thumb resting against her pulse. Then his fingertips were gently stroking her hair. She closed her eyes, and caught a breath. Her heart was speeding up. She could feel herself going hot, her nipples tightening — the tingling between her legs, spreading and damp. For a moment she was furious with her own body for its automatic response, for the way it betrayed her in the middle of an argument. An argument in which she was right, for goodness sake.

 

 

“Peg,” BJ whispered, his breath tickling against her ear, sending shudders down her spine. “I’m really sorry.”

 

 

There it was. There was the apology — she hardly even cared at this point if he meant it or not. She just wanted — she wanted —

 

 

He knew exactly what she wanted. “What can I do to make it better?” he murmured, and licked her ear.  
  
  
“BJ,” she whispered back, like he wasn’t now nibbling her earlobe, sending little jolts of energy through her each time he nipped. His hand moved to cup her breast. Damn it, she thought, uncharacteristically cursing, even if it was only in her head. She swallowed, her mouth dry, and tried her best to keep her voice neutral. “How long is he staying?” she managed to get out.

 

 

BJ sighed, and removed his hand. Her breast felt chilly and lonely… so did the other one, and he hadn’t even touched that yet. She rolled toward him, and rested her head on his shoulder, not wanting to fight.

 

 

“I don’t know, Peg. As long as he needs to, I guess.”

 

 

“How long will that be?” Seemed like some kind of argument was inevitable. “I noticed he brought two suitcases, and he has a car full of junk.”

 

 

“Peg,” BJ snapped. “I don’t know how long he’s staying. We’ve not really talked yet.”

 

 

“You talked till…” she squinted at the clock’s green, glowing hands. “You talked till nearly three.”

 

 

“We didn’t talk about… well, you know. We didn’t talk talk. We just talked about… stuff.”

 

 

“Stuff? What kind of stuff? Like, why does he look like he’s living in his car? Like, does he even have a job anymore?” Peg bit her lip, frustrated. She didn’t want to sound cruel or unsympathetic, Hawk-Eye had just lost his father after all, but she couldn’t help it. She just didn’t trust the man. “For goodness sake, BJ.” She dropped her voice, but she still said it. “Don’t people in Crab Apple Cove care if he goes AWOL?”

 

 

BJ’s body went rigid, tight, like it did sometimes in the grip of a nightmare.

 

 

What had she said?

 

 

“BJ?”

 

 

Suddenly he was shaking. “We’re not in the Army anymore,” he gritted out. “They’re not going to punish someone for quitting their job. For Christ’s sake. It’s not like he’s a deserter. It’s not like anyone’s going to take him out and shoot him if he doesn’t turn up to work.”

 

 

Oh God, Peg realised. She’d said just entirely the wrong thing.

 

 

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” She edged closer and laid her hand against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat banging up against her palm, feel the shallow panicked breath, the rise and fall of his abdomen, the soft curl of his body hair. He didn’t say anything. She stroked, then moved her hand lower, across his belly, further down. She could distract him from this. It would be alright. “I’m really sorry.” She kissed him, mouth, chin, chest.

 

 

“It’s okay, Peg,” BJ said, wrapping his arm back round her. “I shouldn’t have bitten your head off.”

 

 

“Come here,” she whispered. “Let me hold you.”

 

 

He did.

~*~

 

 

It was good having Hawk-Eye here. Better than good. It was… it was great. Almost like a dream come true, though he hadn’t been dreaming it. The whole thing would be wonderful if only Hawk-Eye and Peg could just get along.

 

 

Not that they were exactly arguing. Peg hadn’t said anything since that first night, but BJ knew his wife. He could tell that Hawk-Eye’s constant presence was getting on her nerves. And he knew a good reason for Hawk to be so polite and reserved around Peg — all those things unsaid. Nothing Hawk or BJ could do about the past though, and Hawk didn’t seem to feel guilty. No reason why he should. BJ didn’t even feel guilty apart from — apart from… well, sometimes he did. Yeah, okay, so he could admit it. He did feel guilty — but he couldn’t wish it undone, and he didn’t blame Hawk for it. Besides, it wasn’t like either one of them was ever going to tell Peg. It was just one of those things — one of those things from the past that you didn’t think about, didn’t talk about.

 

 

Except, with Hawk-Eye here he was thinking about it.

 

 

Stop feeling so damn guilty, he told himself. It just happened, that was all. It happened, sometimes when the shelling started, sometimes in the silence when it stopped. It happened when he was crying and lonely and drunk, missing Peg and Erin. It happened when Hawk was exhausted, and his nerves rung raw. It was just — it was comfort, for both of them. What they needed at the time. That was all. All it was. It had helped him to survive. It helped Hawk to survive — Hawk had needed someone to look after too. And none of that, none of that meant he had loved Peg any less.

 

 

 

And Peg didn’t even know. So, why did she dislike Hawk-Eye so much? BJ fretted, picked at the thought like an old scab. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out what Peg’s problem was. It wasn’t like Hawk-Eye had turned the spare room into the Swamp or anything. In fact, he was being the world’s best house-guest. He played with Erin, babysat happily, he paid toward groceries, he even did dishes and made his bed, promised never to try to make omelet again after that first disastrous attempt.

 

 

Maybe it was the drinking, BJ thought. Peg didn’t like it, he knew that, but Hawk wasn’t drinking that much. It wasn’t like the way they drank back in Korea. It was just a little at night to help him sleep. And so, sometimes BJ joined him - but again, it wasn’t the same thing. It wasn’t like they were getting drunk.

 

 

Until, one night, they did.

~*~

 

 

Beej was a big guy - well, not big, but tall. You’d think he’d hold his liquor better, Hawk-Eye grumbled to himself as he bundled his friend up the stairs. Maybe he’d been out of practice — just as well he wasn’t on call tomorrow. “Shush,” Hawk-Eye whispered in BJ’s ear. “You’ll wake up Erin.”

 

 

“Erin,” BJ slurred, and started singing again, “’My Erin lies over the ocean, my Erin lies over the sea…’” Then he started crying.

 

 

“Shush,” Hawk-Eye repeated again. “It’s okay. You’re home now, Erin’s not over the ocean. She’s just across the hall.”

 

 

“Oh.” BJ snuffled, and rubbed his face on Hawk-Eye’s shoulder, like a gangly old dog - a malamute or something. Radar would know. Hawk-Eye grimaced.

 

 

“You’re getting me all snotty,” he complained. Oh. Woah. He was feeling woozy himself - they’d definitely had too much to drink. Time to get the big guy to bed.

 

 

He swerved a little, then tapped on Peg’s door. For a moment he thought there wasn’t going to be an answer and he’d have to get them both back downstairs - but then the doorway swung open.

 

 

“Peg,” Hawk-Eye said with his most ingratiating smile. “Sorry it’s a bit late, but -”

 

 

Peg glared at him, her blue eyes blazing and furious, and grabbed BJ’s arm, hauled him into the bedroom. Behind her, BJ stumbled, and there was a soft ‘whumph’ as he landed on the bed.

 

 

“Uh, Peg?” Hawk-Eye knew he should apologise for something, but words were failing him. She couldn’t be that angry just because her husband was drunk, could she? People got drunk sometimes. Might do her some good to get drunk once in a while… God, he thought again, as he had done often before: maybe she really does know. “Look,” he babbled, “it’s not like - I mean - we didn’t mean to -”

 

 

“Shut up, Benjamin,” she hissed. “Get downstairs, and when you wake up in the morning, pack your things.”

 

 

“Uh, yes, Ma’am.” Hawk-Eye felt about ten years old - if ten year olds could be drunk (which, yes, he knew from general practice and personal experience that they could.) He turned, and the door snicked shut behind him - quietly, so as not to wake Erin, but as firmly as if it had been slammed.

 

 

God, Hawk-Eye thought, I’ve got to go.

 

 

But where could he go without Beej?

~*~

 

 

As it turned out, Hawk-Eye wasn’t going anywhere without Beej. Next morning Beej was out on his ass too.

 

 

“But Peg,” BJ said, as his wife hurled clothing at him and Erin cried. “What did I do? I swear to God, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to get drunk. I won’t do it again.”

 

 

“Just get out!” Peg said, and that was it. That was all she said. Over and over. “Get out,” until the tears were rolling down her face, and her lips were white - panic, anger, pain? Hawk-Eye couldn’t tell. “Get out.”

 

 

So BJ did. And Hawk, completely ignored by Peg, bewildered and hung-over, followed, knowing this was somehow his fault.

~*~

 

 

That night Erin snuggled up in bed next to Peg, hugging her blanky to her.

 

 

“When’s Daddy coming back?” she asked.

 

 

“Daddy…” Peg’s voice trailed off, and she choked. She didn’t know how to tell her daughter that her father wasn’t coming back. There weren’t words for some things.

 

 

Erin seemed to know what she was thinking though. “I hate you,” she said, and thumped Peg’s arm. “I want my Daddy.”

 

 

“So do I,” Peg said, and stroked Erin’s back. Erin carried on punching and kicking, and Peg ignored it. After a while Erin stopped thumping and started crying. Peg just held her, till she’d sobbed herself to sleep.

 

 

Finally Peg rolled over and lay on her back. She wished she could sob her own self to sleep, but she was all cried out. Her eyes were burning, salty and dry. All she could think of was BJ, talking in his sleep last night. BJ rolling lazily toward her, pulling her to him.

 

 

BJ kissing her, humping up against her leg. How despite herself she’d moved toward him, kissed him back.

 

 

 

“Hawk,” he’d said, and kissed her. “God, I missed you Hawk.”

~*~

 

 

Things went downhill after Peg kicked him out. For the longest time, BJ couldn’t believe it. He stayed at a motel with Hawk-Eye, planning to be home within a few days, but every time he turned up to see Erin, Peg refused to speak to him. Each time he came there was more of his stuff packed up for him to take away.

 

 

“Face it, BJ,” Peg said, on one of the rare occasions she was speaking to him. “It’s over.”

 

 

“Look,” he begged, “I don’t know what I did. If you just tell me what I did, we can work it out.”

 

 

She looked at him, her face blank as marble, her eyes charcoaled by lack of sleep. He was bewildered, long past angry, and his heart ached for her, for whatever this was.

 

 

“It’s not what you did.” Peg’s voice cracked. “It’s what you said.”

 

 

Finally, something. He snatched at the clue, like a drowning man grasping for flotsam. “What did I say? I swear I didn’t mean it.”

 

 

“You didn’t mean it?” She stepped closer to him - closer than she had been in weeks - and his heart fluttered in hope. “Listen,” she said, and stood up on her tiptoes, putting her palm flat on his chest. “Tell me you didn’t mean this.”

 

 

“What? What, Peg?” He bent his head down, and she tilted her head so she could whisper in his ear.

 

 

“‘God,’” she whispered down in her throat. He put his arms around her, dizzy at this seeming change in his fortunes. She slid her hand onto his butt, squeezed. “‘God, I missed you. Hawk.’”

 

 

Oh.

 

 

Oh, shit.

 

 

She stepped back, and her mouth smiled, though her eyes were glistening tears. “‘I missed you, Hawk,’” she repeated, like he could have not heard it. “Tell me you didn’t mean that.”

 

~*~

 

 

One day, after going to see Peg and Erin, BJ walked into the motel room, stinking drunk, red-eyed. He didn’t say a word about what had happened, just weaved his way to the bed, dropped onto the mattress, and tossed a bottle of Jack at Hawk-Eye. So, there was obviously only one thing for Hawk to do: join him in getting shit-faced.

 

 

So they got shit-faced, and then, without talking about it, they did the one thing they hadn’t talked about since they’d been back on US soil. Thank God they were conditioned to make no noise - they might as well have been back in Korea, fucking in desperate silence, back in the Swamp.

 

 

Next morning, between the hangover and the fucking, BJ could barely get out of bed. Hawk had pitched last night - Beej had seemed to need it that way, and then he’d passed out before he could return the favour. “God,” Hawk-Eye said, wincing in sympathy as BJ rolled onto his side, “I thought we used enough slick.”

 

 

“It’s hair gel, Hawk,” BJ muttered. “It’s not really designed for what we were using it for.”

 

 

 

“Do you want…?”

 

 

 

“Do I want what, Hawk?” BJ spoke with no intonation.

 

 

 

“Do you want me to get some proper stuff? I can drive out of state.”

 

 

 

“Why bother? Get it at the seven eleven. You might as well. Everyone knows.”

 

 

 

“What do you mean…?” Hawk-Eye’s mouth went dry.

 

 

 

“Everyone who matters,” BJ laughed. Almost sounded like he thought it was funny. “Everyone who matters.”

 

 

 

“You mean…?”

 

 

 

“Yeah. Peg knows.” BJ cracked an eye open and quirked something like a smile. “Seems I talk in my sleep.”

 

 

Fuck, Hawk-Eye thought. I did this to him.

 

 

“Tell her - I don’t know - tell her it was a dream. You can’t help what you dream.”

 

 

“She’s not an idiot, Hawk. Besides, you think that’s better somehow? Adding a lie to this? Cat’s already out of the bag. She’s not gonna trust me any better if I start lying about it.”

 

 

“Oh, fuck… Look, Beej,” Hawk-Eye gestured desperately. “Maybe you can - maybe if I go to Peg and explain -?”

 

 

“What’s to explain, Hawk-Eye?” BJ flopped his head back on the mattress and hid under the pillow. “I’m an ass-bandit. Like my wife will forgive me that.”

 

 

I’ve got to do something to fix this, Hawk-Eye thought.

 

 

Only thing was, he couldn’t think what.

~*~

 

 

It wasn’t the silence in the house that shocked her, though it hurt like hell. She’d expected that. It was the silence when she stepped into a shop, or walked Erin to the park or pre-school. It was the sudden sucking vacuum; the moment when she walked into the grocery store and all the voices stopped, then started up again, more quietly. It was the way the other mothers didn’t quite turn their backs on her, but they didn’t make eye-contact, tuned her out anyway. It was the whispered conversations, of which she was often the subject, but in which she was never included, other than the hush which fell when she got too close. The church mothers forgetting to pour her a cup of tea at the end of services, the way they told their children not to play with Erin, but to pray for her.

 

 

Peg had good ears. She had been listening to rumours of wars for years. She knew when the ground was shaking, when things were changing beneath her feet. She knew what these women were saying, even amidst all the things they weren’t saying to her. She knew what the husbands thought, even though they didn’t look at her.

 

 

And the ‘kindnesses’ were worst of all:

 

 

‘Haven’t seen you and BJ round the country club for a while.’

 

 

‘Erin’s seemed down lately. A girl needs her Daddy’.

 

 

‘Maybe you should talk to my pastor… he specialises in this kind of thing. Help you guys work it out.’

 

 

Those were the friendly comments.

 

 

She chose not to think of the unfriendly.

 

 

The silences shouldn’t have hurt. She was used to the absence of BJ. It hurt to admit that truth, but she’d always half expected to be a widow. She had been prepared to live without him if she had to. He’d been in the army so long, she’d had no choice. But at least then the other army wives had been sympathetic. Now she was not a noble victim of the war effort - now she was a pariah. It was whispered that her husband had another woman squirreled away somewhere, or that she had cheated on him while he was in Korea. Whatever it was that she’d done, everyone agreed that it was a terrible thing for a woman to drive her husband to drink, to force him to live in a motel. She’d let down a war hero. She’d let down the sorority of women. She was a failure as a wife, and therefore a failure as a mother. She couldn’t even talk to her parents about it. What could she say, without destroying BJ’s reputation?

 

 

She couldn’t do that to him.

 

 

She’d lived through worse, she told herself. She’d known more loneliness when the war took BJ from her the first time, just after Erin was born. Erin hadn’t even been speaking then. Peg had handled the post natal pain, and the grief and sleepless nights all by herself. And it had bee worse, hadn’t it?

 

 

No. This was worse. Because then, even though Beej was gone, he was always coming back.

 

 

Even if he came back in a box, he was always coming back.

 

 

Now there was no hope, not even for closure. She couldn’t divorce him - you just couldn’t do that. And besides, what could she say, other than the truth? That would ruin his life. She still loved him, after all. She wasn’t going to stand in court and say he was a homosexual offender. He’d been through enough. God knows, he’d never have done this to her in the first place - he’d never have done any of it, if he hadn’t gone to war, and if he hadn’t met that… that man.

 

 

But still — BJ was gone, and her life was falling apart. Slowly, in little increments. She paid the bills, she cleaned the gutters, she got a part time job at the library. She stopped speaking to her family — they kept asking when BJ was coming back, and she couldn’t bear it. She fed and dressed Erin, got her to school, played with her and her damned hamster. Read her books at bedtime.

 

 

Let her Daddy and that Hawk-Eye guy take her for the weekend, once they got a bigger place.

 

 

Seriously, they needed to be more discreet, if they didn’t want people to talk. Already Erin was calling Hawk-Eye ‘Uncle Hawk.’

 

 

Beej seemed to be coping though. Better than she was anyway. He pulled himself together enough to go back to work,to be sober at work, to be sober when he saw Erin. Although she heard whispers that he was struggling ‘because of that woman, you know.’ ‘Thank God he’s got a friend,’ they added. ‘God knows what he’d do if his army buddy wasn’t helping him out.’

 

 

Because yes. Hawk-Eye was here to stay. Hawk-Eye had even, finally, got a job in the local practice.

 

 

Peg hoped she was never ill, that she never had to see the doctor. Because frankly, she couldn’t bear the idea of seeing either one of them.

 

 

 

But time passed, and time passed, and her world shrank, and darkened, and in the end she didn’t go to see the doctors at all.

 

 

They came to see her.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...


End file.
